


six separate times eliot absolutely does not get it (and one time he does)

by FrazzledDragon



Category: Leverage
Genre: 6+1 Things, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eliot Spencer Tries His Best, Eliot is Very Dense, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, First kisses gone wrong, Flirting, Getting Together, Light Angst, Matchmaker Sophie Devereaux, Mom Friend Sophie Devereaux, Multi, Nate's existence is mentioned but he doesn't actually appear, No one is subtle, POV Eliot Spencer, Parker has bad timing, Polyamory, Sophie Devereaux is a Good Friend, They're a mess but i love them, mentions of cannibalism? i guess i should tag that, miscommunications
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:15:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23992873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrazzledDragon/pseuds/FrazzledDragon
Summary: Basically what it says on the tin!*eliot "getting" it is a bit of stretch, they kind of have to spoon-feed it to him but he does catch up :D
Relationships: Alec Hardison/Parker, Alec Hardison/Parker/Eliot Spencer, Sophie Devereaux/Nathan Ford
Comments: 36
Kudos: 256





	six separate times eliot absolutely does not get it (and one time he does)

1.

Eliot's caught them both now. Multiple times. Staring at him. With a weird look on their faces. If it were just Parker, he could maybe write it off as her trying to learn something. Every time she found something new to learn, there were a few days where she was a little awkward to be around, before she figured it out and added it to her skillset. But Hardison too?

For as much of a nerd as Hardison was, he wasn't actually awkward. He was smooth and funny and if he bothered to find dates or talk to women, he'd probably be pretty successful. That is, if he could ever stop talking about Star Wars. Or Trek. Whatever.

If he didn't know better, he'd say that weird look on their faces was some sort of longing, like a crush. But he knows better because he's _seen_ the looks on their faces when they look at each other. Even a blind man could see that. That attraction. That love. 

And Eliot hopes they get together. He really does. They're his best friends in the entire world, the only ones who know him and know what he does and like him anyway. The only ones who know his favorite kind of tea, who buy/steal him presents and like to listen to him play music. They deserve the best the world has to offer, to take as much as they can from this life as long as they are alive to steal it. They're two of the best people he's ever known.

But the staring is weird. Of the two, Parker is the one he trusts to be honest with him, so he approaches her.

"Parker, can I ask ya something?"

Parker, who is precariously dangling by one leg from the rafters, looks down at him, narrowing her eyes on his hair. "Is that my scrunchie?"

Eliot frowns, reaching back to touch his hair. He didn't remember putting it up, but sure enough, the soft fabric of one of Parker's scrunchies could be found wrapped around his ponytail. "Sorry, I was reading earlier and must have grabbed it." He had a habit of diving into really good books and not being entirely aware of what went on around him, of even what his own hands were doing.

"It's fine. Looks good on you. Brings out your eyes." She swings up to a more comfortable and less precarious position, before turning back to Eliot. "Question?"

A little thrown by the compliment and Parker's intense stare ( _that_ was the downside to talking to Parker he'd forgotten about), Eliot stumbles. 

"Uh… it's… well… I was wondering if you knew why Hardison has been staring at me lately." He keeps her out of it, figuring that if he makes it seem like he hasn't noticed her, it'll sound less awkward. "He gets this really weird look on his face and everything."

Parker's face goes thoughtful for a moment, before she brightens. "He's been doing that to me too!"

Eliot frowns. "No, he's got a different look for you."

"No he doesn't. He looks at you the exact same way he looks at me."

Feeling as though he's losing control of the conversation and the point of the question, he asks again, "But why is he staring at me like that?"

Parker shrugs. "Couldn't tell ya. Can't figure it out myself. I've been staring at you too, haven't I?"

Startling, Eliot feels his cheeks go pink. "Yeah."

Her face scrunches up. "Weird. I dunno what that's about."

Eliot wishes he could say he disbelieves her, but she's exactly unaware enough about her own emotions and feelings that he has little doubt that she really doesn't know why. 

"Okay… can… can you stop?" He asks, a little confused and a little embarrassed. "It… It's confusing."

Parker nods agreeably, as though they were not having an awkward conversation. "Yeah. I'll ask Hardison and figure why he's staring at us too and get back to ya."

Eliot put it out of his mind after that, only mildly confused when Parker not only did not get back to him, but also continued to stare at him occasionally.

2.

They don’t do anything so obvious as announce it to the team. It’s nicknames, Hardison preparing her food, her preparing Hardison food, the occasional peck on the cheek, and suddenly it’s just _a thing_. 

Hardison and Parker are _together_.

Eliot is happy for them. Truly.

He makes a show of them kissing and sitting in one another’s laps and holding hands making him nauseous, but he’s really not. Really. He’s not. It’s just… weird, watching your best friends kiss. He’s not jealous. He meets a nice girl with enough confidence and libido, and soon they’re dating too.

It’s just that… she breaks it off with him after three weeks. He doesn’t tell the team. Apparently, the problem is that he’s distracted. His attention, when she can get it, is good, and the sex is great, but she feels… like there’s someone else.

He doesn’t know what she’s talking about. There’s no one else? Who else could there be? He can’t convince her though, and he’s left in the bar by himself. Nate and Sophie are not-talking in the corner of the bar, and Hardison and Parker are cozy on the couch in the base.

He goes to his apartment and picks up a book, pulling Parker’s scrunchie, which he has yet to return, from his hair.

Sophie approaches him a few days later. “Hey, Eliot?” Her voice is smooth and probably not trying to hypnotize him to do something menial for her. “Are you alright?”

He frowns. “Of course I am. Why?”

“You’ve been… distant the past couple days.”

His frown deepens. “What do you mean?”

“Guarded, defensive, ya know… Like you were when we first met.”

Eliot doesn’t deign to respond. He’s not like that anymore. He’s different now. He’s not sure if that’s good or bad, but he’s definitely different. He’s got people that will fight with and for him now. People he’d fight with and for. That makes it different.

“See, you’re even ignoring me now!” 

She seems genuinely concerned, so Eliot turns, an apology in his gaze. “Sorry… My girlfriend broke up with me a couple days ago. I’ll be okay.”

Sophie smiles warmly, squeezing his arm. “You tell me if you need someone to talk to. Any time, any where, Eliot.”

He smiles too, patting her hand. Sophie walks away.

Parker manages to scare the shit out of him.

“SHIT, Parker!” He growls, cheeks reddening. “Don’t _do_ that, dammit.”

“You’re distracted.”

There's no point in beating around the bush, and he'd truly be an unforgivable monster if he were to lie to Parker at this point, because she trusts him. “My girlfriend broke up with me, okay?”

Parker makes an ‘o’ with her lips, and Eliot’s eyes track the motion. “Makes sense. You’ve been a bear the past couple days. A real grouch. A pain in the ass. Hardison has been calling you a grumpasaurus rex behind your back. Even Nate called you a little shit.”

“A guy can’t have a couple bad days?”

Parker raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms across her chest. “‘Course he can. He just can’t take it out on his friends who are worried about him and not tell them what’s wrong.”

Eliot narrows his eyes at her, but eventually cracks. “Sorry, Parker. Tell Hardison I’m sorry too. I’ll tell Nate.”

Surprising him, she wraps her arms around his neck. “Don’t shut us out like that, Eliot. Please? I was worried you were going to leave. Hardison even checked to make sure you hadn’t booked flight tickets or anything.”

Whatever defensive wall left inside him crumbles as he hugs her back. “Sorry, Parker. I’m not going anywhere. Promise.”

He can feel her smile, even though he can’t see it. “Good. I’d miss you.”

“I’d miss you too.”

“Hardison would miss you too. He likes your banter.”

“Really?”

3.

Eliot doesn’t take too long after that to bounce back, finding another girlfriend. She’s pretty, confident, and from the northeast. He thinks her accent is pretty, and her short brown hair and bright hazel eyes seem to tease him constantly. He genuinely likes her, and she doesn’t seem to be the slightest bit scared of him, even some of the more sharp parts. He doesn’t tell her everything - he’ll never tell anyone _everything_ \- but, she learns more than some.

It doesn’t take a genius, however, to figure out that for some reason he cannot discern, Parker does _not_ like her. Even a little bit. She doesn’t like her hair, her eyes, her voice, her hands, her personality. Eliot presses her, getting more than a little defensive and trying to get a real reason. Parker won’t give him one, muttering about pretzels, which only confuses him further. 

He knows it’s not her fault that communicating about her feelings is hard for her, but he can’t help the anger that boils in his chest. She has someone to be happy with. Why should she get an opinion on someone who makes him happy, and who has never done anything to earn her ire? It’s so confusing.

If it stopped there, he probably wouldn’t have taken an individual job.

But Hardison starts doing it too. Making comments on her appearance (Eliot did not think Hardison was that shallow). Digging up petty shit on her. Commenting on how Eliot could do better, deserved more in a relationship.

So Eliot goes to Nate, says he’s taking a separate job, an individual job, out of the country. Says he won’t be back for a month, maybe two. And most importantly, no one on the team is allowed to come after him in any form. He tells his girlfriend he’s got a work trip, and disappears off the face of the earth for three months straight.

4.

He knows Parker is mad at him. Hell, the whole team, with the exception of Nate, is mad at him. In his defense, he really did only plan on being gone two months, tops. Then the job, done alone, went belly-up and Eliot had had to carve a way out where there was absolutely not one. Hence, an extra month of cleaning up and covering up his mess, making sure no one was going to track him down or try to get payback from his team.

That said, it stings a little that no one called him. Or texted him. Even once. When Sophie needed a break, no one left her alone. They needed her. Would need her, even if Nate said they didn’t.

He simply isn’t needed. Not like Sophie, or Parker, or Hardison, or Nate. They can make do without him.

It stings. Just a little.

But he doesn’t say anything about it, doesn’t address the elephant in the room. Either they would, or they’d remove him from the team. Maybe that’d be easier. Less painful than extricating his heart himself.

He’s going to make supper for himself in the base, about to open the apartment door, when he hears two voices, arguing at a volume just louder than a whisper. Parker and Hardison, unless he misses his guess.

“... what if he’s not…” A hiccup. Is Parker _crying_?

“Then we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Parker, this is okay. We can work with this. We just need to make it obvious. He’s… He’s pretty oblivious, and probably not…” Hardison’s voice gets too quiet to hear for a moment, before Parker speaks again.

“I… I think I made it pretty obvious before. You got it, the first time. And he… he _left_ Alec. I don’t… I don’t want him to leave again.”

“Breathe, Parker. He’s an adult. We’re adults, we can act like it.”

Eliot is _infinitely_ confused, but eventually decides that this is _not_ his conversation to be hearing, and though his curiosity is _very_ interested in who this “he” is, he won’t ask. Won’t listen more. They’re his friends, not a mark. He respects them far, far more than that.

5.

“You look damn fine in those pants, E.”

Eliot chokes on his drink - freshly squeezed orange juice - and struggles to ensure it doesn’t come out his nose. Firstly, it’s seven o’clock in the morning. As in, before noon. Parker is the only one who’s occasionally at the apartment at this time and awake, so seeing Hardison, who is in pajamas and still rubbing sleep out of his eyes, is really jarring.

“They’re just my jeans,” he finally stumbles out, confused and defensive, trying to find the punchline or the joke. 

“Yeah, and you look damn fine in them.” Hardison’s eyes are appreciative as they trace down his legs, and Eliot’s cheeks flare.

“You think so?” Eliot says, more embarrassed than he’d been in days. “And why is that the first thing you’ve said to me since I came back?”

Hardison shrugs. “You’re not sorry you left. You came back. You’re okay. I don’t see the point in being angry any longer. Nate says your job went wrong, which is why you weren’t back when you said you would be. He said you were trying to protect us.”

Eliot doesn’t meet his eyes. “You could’ve asked me. I woulda told you.”

“I know. I didn’t want to talk to you though.”

“But… we’re good now?”

Hardison cracks a grin that does something _really_ weird to Eliot’s stomach. “You keep wearing jeans like that, I don’t see how we couldn’t be good.”

Eliot glares, but Hardison just wolf-whistles and generally makes Eliot so embarrassed he has to leave, still trying to process exactly what _that_ was.

Later that day, he approaches Sophie. “Did Parker and Hardison break up?”

That gets her attention quick. “No. Why? Which one of them is crying?”

He shakes his head. “Neither… Just… Hardison was acting goofy this morning and I wanted to make sure it was just sleep deprivation.”

Sophie shrugs. “As far as I know, all is smooth sailing between them. You know how they are. A pair made in heaven. A perfectly matched pair of socks. Two sides of the same coin. The sun to the moon.”

Every analogy makes Eliot’s stomach twist more. Why? Why does it bother him? Why does he care? What does it matter that Hardison likes how he looks in his favorite pair of jeans? What does it matter that as embarrassed as he was, he didn’t _dislike_ Hardison’s comments or whistling? What does it matter that Sophie’s staring at him now, analyzing his every microexpression?

Oh, wait. That matters. He glares at her. She _knows_ he hates that.

“What did Hardison do that was so strange?” She asks, in that voice that _screams_ she’s thinking something that hasn’t even crossed Eliot’s subconscious yet.

Eliot, not quite willing to repeat Hardison’s words out loud, even to Sophie who wouldn’t tell or make fun of him, says gruffly, “Just… I guess it was just that he suddenly started talking to me again. Joking around and stuff.” Not a lie, not the truth.

“Did you apologize? Not that I think you should, but did you?”

He shakes his head.

“So he came to terms with your choices! Interesting. Was that it?”

Eliot can't lie to Sophie, not because he wouldn't, but because he literally can't, and looks away. "Yeah," he lies, _knowing_ she knows.

That's where the conversation ends though, because Sophie knows when Eliot draws the line, when he won't say anything more.

He might have been able to chock Hardison up to sleep deprivation if it weren't for Parker.

On a _con_ . Over the _comms_. At a party in a room full of corrupt people. When the only people on comms are Hardison, Parker, and himself, due to the delicate nature of Sophie and Nate’s roles.

"Eliot, you look hot."

His whole body falters, like someone hard restarted his whole system. The mark on his arm, an overwhelmingly rich and corrupt businesswoman who literally has people killed so she can eat them, asks him if he's okay, and he gives her a stilted smile. "Yeah, I'm fine, a little cold," he manages, figuring that answers Parker's inquiry well enough. He _is_ a little chilly, despite his multiple layer suit.

Parker grumbles, before saying, sounding a little like she's choking, "No, I mean you look _hot_. Like your ass. Is attractive."

Eliot genuinely chokes on his champagne, and has to pretend he had a tickle in his throat. Subtly, he checks his back pockets, trying to figure out what she's trying to refer to in code. Is there a bomb in his back pockets? Or something that will electrocute him? He separates from the mark for a moment, long enough to ask, "Hardison, what is she talking about? Am I in danger?"

Hardison coughs into the comms. "Uh… not sure. Parker, not a good time for that." His voice has a pointed tone, as though there was something specific he was referring to. Something Eliot’s not in on.

"Fine," Parker growls.

Eliot is so confused he almost forgets the job all together. 

When the job is done, and everyone is happy (with the exception of the rich cannibal and her lackeys, who are all sporting more than their fair share of bruises and broken bones), Eliot tries to press Parker on what she meant, but she just… doesn’t answer. Is pointedly quiet. As though _he’s_ the one missing something.

How is _he_ the one missing something? Did Parker and Hardison simultaneously forget they’re dating each other? And why are they flirting with _him_? He’s pretty sure it isn’t April 1st. Is this some elaborate joke? A prank that they feel like he earned, when he’s pretty sure he hasn’t specifically earned a prank of this nature.

6.

His girlfriend, the one who has the pretty accent and playful eyes, breaks up with him. He doesn’t know why. He doesn’t think she knows either. But it ends as civilly and brutally as it can, quick and clean, and there’s a brand new ache in his chest.

This time, he’s careful. He doesn’t snap at the team, even when Nate’s being a dick. He doesn’t lash out. But he is miserable. It hurts. He hates how much it hurts. And how much he doesn’t blame her at all. He’s a mess. He’s confused. He doesn’t understand. He _doesn’t understand_.

There’s a lull in jobs, which is almost worse. With no jobs, there’s nothing else to focus on. Nothing to hit. Nothing to do. He’s sitting in the living room, alone on the couch. It’s quiet. The sun went down a while ago, but he hasn’t been able to work up the energy to get up to turn off the lights. He hasn’t eaten yet today, but to be honest… He’s just.. Not hungry. 

He startles. Actually startles, when Hardison sits down next to him. 

And hands him a tray of food. Warm soup (Panera) with warm bread (the local bakery Eliot likes) and fresh fruit from the farmer’s market (he can tell by the smell of the melon). When he doesn’t take the tray, Hardison sets it in his lap.

Slowly, glancing at Hardison periodically the entire time, Eliot slowly sips at the soup, mopping it up with chunks of warm bread. The melon is tangy and sharp, complimenting the warm and gentle taste of the soup nicely. 

Hardison smiles in the way that makes Eliot’s stomach do weird things when he’s finished the food. “Feeling better?”

Eliot doesn’t think he can form words with Hardison’s attention on him like this, so he grunts affirmation, because yeah, having some food in his stomach does feel good. He doesn’t feel so empty. Hardison knocks his shoulder into Eliot’s.

“Thought so.” They sit in silence for a few moments, before Hardison nudges his shoulder again. Eliot looks over at him. “I have a question for ya.”

Eliot looks up in mild surprise. He doesn’t make a sound, just exhales, and blinks. Then Hardison’s face is mere inches from his, and he inhales, sharp and quick. It’s a fighter’s response, someone who has had to fight for his life. Hardison doesn’t even flinch, then presses his lips to Eliot’s.

Eliot freezes. He cannot make himself respond, cannot move. Hardison is _kissing_ him.

Eliot runs. Doesn’t touch Hardison, doesn’t say anything. He _runs_ , like he’s never run from a fight, from an enemy, from a war. He’s never run from anything, anyone, but he runs from Hardison. Runs so fast, so hard, that when he blinks again, his lungs are burning and his eyes are watering and it takes him a long moment to find out where he is.

He’s in a forest. In the park, just outside of town. He runs his hands through his hair, once, twice. His brow is wet with sweat, and he’s shivering. There’s only one thought running through his racing mind.

_How the shit is he going to tell Parker?_

He goes and leans against the broadest tree in the vicinity. The bark feels good against his back, unlike the supper in his stomach. He thinks he’s going to be sick. He’s usually a master of his breathing, of his heart rate. Both are spiraling out of control and he can’t _think_ . He needs to think, needs to figure this out. He needs to talk to Parker. He needs to tell her. That _has_ to come first. Even if it ruins their relationship, he has to be honest with her. Even if it makes Parker and Hardison break up and everything they have falls apart. 

They’re the only people who he really cares about anymore and he can’t lie to them. Not for things that matter. Not for this. 

He closes his eyes, massaging his sinuses. This is a mess. An unbelievable, horrible, terrible mess. He’s so overwhelmed and confused that he can’t even cry like the tightness in his chest is begging him to do. He can’t breathe. He needs to breathe.

He closes his eyes. Relaxes his face. Then his shoulders. Then his chest. Then his back. Then stomach, waist, butt. Legs. Feet. Then goes back up his body, forcing his muscles to relax. He needs to breathe. He needs control. He needs… well, he needs someone to hit. But that’s not an option. Violence won’t solve this, won’t give him the control he seeks. He knows it.

So he forces air into his lungs. Forces himself to relax.

His lips part. The breath leaves his lungs slowly and softly. The first one since… Hardison. 

It was just a kiss. He can figure this out.

He opens his eyes slowly, carefully. To find Parker, suspended upside down by her rigging, right in front of his nose.

He jumps, slamming his head into the tree. He forces himself to breathe. He has to say it. Right now. If even one sentence comes before the truth, he will never forgive himself. “Parker, Hardison kissed m-”

He’s interrupted by Parker’s lips slamming into his, her wiry fingers and calloused palms holding Eliot’s cheeks in place. He’s frozen again, twice in an hour.

When he runs this time, he doesn’t stop when his lungs burn. When his eyes water. When his muscles scream. When everything in him screeches and wants to fight.

7.

He can only avoid Sophie so long. 

She finds him in an apartment. He rents it with cash payments, cash he had stored for an emergency, under an alias he’s never used, in the part of town with no security cameras. He ditched his phone and comm somewhere in that park after… Parker.

He doesn’t know how she found him. He wishes she hadn’t.

He’s glad she did.

“No one will tell me what happened.” Sophie’s voice is kind. Confused. Genuine. “You ran.”

He nods. There’s nothing more to say. He’s never ran, not from anyone, and he promised he wouldn’t run from them. And he’s run. He doesn’t know if he can stop.

“We need you for the next job,” she says eventually. “Otherwise, Hardison might get himself killed.” He knows he flinches, and he knows she said that just to see him flinch. She’s piecing it together, one shard of this broken picture at a time. “Parker’s been worried about you.” He flinches again. “Eliot, what happened? I’ve… I’ve never seen you like this. Hardison and Parker genuinely are worried sick. Even Hardison can’t find you. Parker’s refusing to leave the apartment.”

Eliot’s eyes burn. This is such a mess. “I made the best tactical decision. For the good of the team.” His voice is so, so tight.

“You got scared.”

He freezes.

“Hardison and Parker scared you off.”

He can’t breathe.

“What did they do, Eliot?” She’s pleading. _Really_ pleading. Whatever’s going on back in that apartment, with the rest of the team, it’s not good. “You would never run for yourself, so it’s got to be them. Eliot, you can tell me. Please, tell me. I’m not criticizing you, not trying to con you, I just want to understand.”

 _I want to fix this_ , he hears, unspoken but screamed at the top of her lungs all the same.

He swallows. He doesn’t know if he can say it. “They kissed me.”

Now that the words are out, the burning in his eyes gets worse, and his throat tightens. He does _not_ want to cry in front of Sophie.

He feels her tense, almost as much as sees her. “They…”

“Hardison, then when I ran, Parker.” It’s a confession, a plea, a mourning. He knows every emotion he’s feeling is loud and clear in his voice, knows he’s shaking and she can see that. “I… I tried to tell her… But… she… I didn’t… I never…” He stumbles into silence.

“Eliot, this isn’t your fault.”

The words take some of the burden off his shoulders, but he still feels heavy and empty and numb. It’s horrible.

“Did they get consent?”

He shakes his head.

“Did you kiss either of them back?”

He looks up in alarm, a fierce scowl on his face. Of course he didn’t. They’re his best friends, who are _taken_ . Involved. Dating. He wouldn’t kiss them. Not unless it was for a con. That’s just… just _wrong_.

“Eliot… You need to talk to them. Both of them.”

He looks away.

“Look, I know this is confusing. You’re panicking, probably filled with guilt, and are absolutely entitled to all those feelings. You’re not wrong. I don’t even know all the details and I’m a bit overwhelmed. But there’s… there’s no point in running. You’ll never be free if you run.”

He wants to bark at her. He knows that, of _course_ he does. There’s a reason he’s still in the city, still in the country, and it’s certainly not for the going rent price on garbage housing. He just… wants to feel ready for them. Ready for what they might say, what they might do. He wants to have processed everything he’s thinking, everything he’s feeling. He wants to know how he feels, for once. He wants… He wants for his feelings to not be so involved in this mess.

“Eliot, Hardison and Parker are miserable. And feel horrible. They won’t talk about you at all, but it’s clear they’re struggling with guilt. They feel terrible. I just… want to see this get patched up, okay? I’m not wearing a comm or carrying my cell phone. I changed my clothes in a storage room none of the team have ever seen. I didn’t bring any tech for Hardison to track you with, and I lost Parker in the subway. I’m not trying to force you or guilt trip you into doing anything you don’t want to do. I wouldn’t do that to you. Not about this.”

Eliot doesn’t say a thing.

He forces himself to breathe. Over and over. 

“Eliot.”

A beat.

“Please, Eliot.”

“I’ll try.”

The words sound like gravel and sandpaper had a child and called it mouthwash, but he says them. “I’ll try to talk to them. But… I don’t know if I can.”

"You can." He can't tell if that's an affirmation or a hope. "Eliot, take all the time you need to prepare. Pick up a phone somewhere and text me when you're coming back. They'll be ready. I'll make sure of it."

He nods. Will he ever be truly ready?

"But if you could be ready in the next two weeks, we really do need you for this upcoming job. Nate's been holding out on hiring someone else, but he wants you back. You're the best after all."

He nods again. He'll be back, if for no other reason than he doesn't trust anyone else to protect his team the way he can. No matter where they stand, he _will_ protect them. Period.

He picks up a cheap burner phone from the closest store he can find. He takes it back to the apartment - he's got two more days of paid stay - and stares at it for a while, before he carefully taps out Sophie's number. 

Slowly, slowly, he types out: _im coming back_

He hits send.

It's a while before Sophie responds. _It's clear here. They're the only ones there. They don't know you're coming._

He walks back, meandering. His route is the scenic one, away from security cameras. He's lost in his own head the entire time. He almost doesn't realize he's back.

But the door to the apartment is in front of him.

He stares at it for a long moment. Then he knocks.

It's Hardison who opens the door. They stare at each other for a long moment. 

Then a blonde force of nature wraps herself around Eliot squeezing him so tight that he almost can't breathe. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she whispers, over and over and over again. "Please stay."

Tentatively, he hugs her back. Carefully. Gently. "I'm sorry too," he says gruffly. He walks into the apartment with Parker wrapped around him like a koala. "We… we need to talk."

That makes Parker drop off of him immediately, but she doesn't go far. She meets Eliot's eyes. "Alec says we were being too indirect and not using our words. So we've been practicing." Her face screws into a determined frown, brows pressing down and lips thin. "I'm dating Alec. I love Alec. Alec loves me. _We,_ " she gestures to herself and Hardison, in case it weren't clear, "both…" She hesitates, trying to get the words right. "We both want… want to date you. We l… love you."

Hardison takes over here, his voice coming from behind Eliot. "We were trying to tell you, and it didn't occur to us that you might not know we were on the same page. That you might think… we were cheating on each other with you. Eliot, we're… we're so sorry."

Eliot looks at Parker, then at Hardison. Then back to Parker. He's very confused, but… he thinks he's slowly beginning to understand. "You… both want to date… me?"

Parker brightens. "It's called polyamory!" She says, not smiling but clearly proud of herself. "It's when more than two people are in a relationship together!"

"But… but how would that work?" Eliot asks.

"That's up to us three. We can work out the specifics as we go, if you… if you want to, of course."

Parker sombers again. "We really don't want you to leave. We're trying not to be scary. We're really, really sorry. Sophie says I'm not allowed to trap you here, but I… I really don't want you to leave."

Eliot huffs, trying to comprehend everything he's heard. Trying to reach a conclusion. "So… so you were trying to tell me you had crushes on me. Which is why you… you called me hot."

Parker nods agreeably.

"You just forgot to tell me you weren't cheating."

Hardison chuckles awkwardly. "Yeah, man… not our brightest moment."

"And…" Eliot hesitates. He had a whole novel's worth of things he'd wanted to say before he walked in that door, and now he's got the chance, he can't manage to say any of them. He takes a breath. "And now? Do you… Do you still want me?"

He watches the look on Parker's face go from confusion to hesitant joy. "Yes?" She says, like it's obvious, like it's a stupid question.

"Yeah," Hardison says. His voice is low.

Eliot closes his eyes. When he opens them again, the words come easily to his lips. "You both are idiots."

Parker pouts.

Hardison laughs.

"I… I want to try… this poly… polyamory thing." His voice is too quiet, too timid. "If you're sure you want me. I… I won’t leave again.”

Parker beams, hopping from foot to foot, looking at Eliot, then Hardison over her shoulder. Then, before Eliot can brace himself, Parker leaps into his arms, smashing her lips against his once again. Eliot is toppling backward, racing, fumbling mind bracing himself and Parker for the fall, when a solid, warm chest meets his back, stabilizing him.

Eliot’s eyes slip closed as Parker kisses him and Hardison nuzzles at his neck, and he’s overwhelmed, but warm and safe and he feels so _loved_ and wanted, that he can’t imagine running away. This is safe. This is love. This is home.

**Author's Note:**

> yall i had so much fun writing this you don't even know it's hardly edited and the story is shaky at best but yall i love them so so much i want them to be HAPPY AAH
> 
> thanks for reading this and i hope you're having a lovely day!!!


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